


Distance

by siba



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein-centric, Photographer Jean Kirstein
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:48:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6102319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siba/pseuds/siba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As per another request on Tumblr (sibahahahahawhoops) where the prompt was "I miss you". So I've created a first person narrative from Jean's point of view about his long-distance relationship with Marco!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distance

The funny thing I realized not too long ago about love, is that you don’t realize you have it until it’s slipping through your fingers like sand, falling back onto the beach and blending with the rest of those meaningless emotions that have been carried around your entire life. With every lap of the ocean against the sand, the grinding of life against you as individual, it makes you harder, taking away more sand and more emotions until you’re nothing but a hard, rocky shore. I am that hard rocky shore who is just trying to get by every day with memories that I somehow managed to salvage from the grating waves.   
Those memories all center around one man, Marco Bodt; Entrepreneur and socially awkward dork who can’t keep himself from blushing for more than five seconds, lighting up his tanned cheeks and even bringing out those brilliant freckles that dotted his entire body. He owned a pet grooming Salon in his hometown, about Twenty-five hundred miles away from me where I studied photography in a big East Coast school, just trying to make my parents proud in any way I could so that way I could get a job straight out of college, settle down, get married and have three kids for them to play with while I worked my ass off for the rest of my life to provide for someone who probably stopped loving me the year after we would get married. I didn’t want that, I didn’t want to be unhappy with my life or pressured into fitting into some cookie cutter mold.   
So I found happiness with Marco. At least, happiness with skyping, texting, messaging, and watching movies with Marco online. As bad as Skype cameras were, and still are, I could make out every freckle of his that spanned over his beautiful high cheek bones. I could see the glimmer in his beautiful almond eyes as he or I said a bad joke just to make the other laugh and blush, because that’s what we did; we always had. We were infatuated with the faces behind our screens, how we smiled when we talked to one another, how we even would giggle at the terrible pick up lines of the other. All things that I, and he, had come to enjoy and love about one another over a period of time that I could only describe as wonderful. It was like the honeymoon phase, but it was out entire relationship. We were never bored, I never ran out of things to joke with him about or to talk to him about. We were two pieces of the same puzzle, and only together were we able to create this beautiful picture for everyone else to see.   
But as all good things in life, it began to fade away. I saw less of his smiles through Skype, I heard less of his jokes because life was finally getting in the way of our honeymoon phase; reality was sinking in and we were both trying to cope with our own separate lives. Lives that sadly, didn’t include each other when we were busy due to the sheer distance between us. Then again, even when I wasn’t busy, I found myself staring at my phone, wishing that Marco would text me first so that I knew that I wasn’t the only one feeling this intense longing to talk to him again. I would have given anything to have the balls to just text him a simple ‘Hey’ or ‘You free?’, but I didn’t want to be overbearing. After all, I was still in shock as to how an amazing man like Marco, would choose to date me of all people. I had no real skills, my looks were subpar when I tried, and I could barely hold a conversation with the guy without becoming red and smiling like an idiot middle-schooler on their first date.  
Minutes felt like months, Hours were like years, and days were just endless eternities of me wondering where the hell I went wrong, did I say something? Or was he just too busy to text me? Should I have texted him first? Should I tell him that I’m madly in love with everything that he is? Even after nearly six months of dating through Skype and ordering the same pizza’s at the same time so it was like we were on an actual date.   
It turns out, I didn’t need to, for it was all said in three simple words. A three word promise, saying that we’d never have to apart for so long ever again.  
All I got, after twenty-seven hours and fourteen minutes of no texts, was ‘I miss you’.

I know, I miss you too.


End file.
